


the colour of warmth

by nina_en_wonderland



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi makes her hot... pfft, F/M, hint of domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nina_en_wonderland/pseuds/nina_en_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(written for basketballpoetsociety’s challenge #29 “summer.”)</p><p>"It is completely and utterly your fault, this heat, with your hair and your eyes and –"</p>
            </blockquote>





	the colour of warmth

"You're being unreasonable."

She pouted and sighed and blinked her large magenta eyes. Finally, she relented, "…am not."

He raised his eyes skyward ( _catching more a handful of her bedroom's sunny-painted ceiling but still),_ to speak volumes of his impression of her maturity levels right now. "Momoi, I cannot help the colour of my hair." And then he added, almost like an afterthought, "It is irrelevant, anyway."

Even with all her apparent _observations_ of the day so far, she had not moved a muscle from where she lay – but he made no mention of that. It was not really that he had _just_ realized she was only teasing him but.

 _"But it's so_ _ **red**_ _,"_ she insisted. As if that made complete sense.

She tugged gently at those short red locks then, and it was testament of their grown relationship that he allowed it. Her arm was draped across his chest to do so, and, with his eyes, he followed the line of it to a lock of pink hair flowing over the curve of her shoulder to spread across the rest of her pillow. If he turned his head a little, his lips would catch across the inside of her wrist where it had drifted to now rest against his jaw.

"Somehow," he murmured, and felt her jump a little at the throaty vibration of it. He rolled over, letting her adjust the placement of her left arm, and looked down into her eyes. "I think it would be more your fault though." His lips curved slightly at her indignant huff then and, reaching out, he gathered the long strands of her hair in one hand and pressed it to her cheek; an unexpected gesture of playfulness.

"Ah, that's itchy," she said and shied away from it, nestling deeper into the bed and his side. Still, her large eyes peered back up at him, doe-like and expectant.

 _"Your hair is a sunset,"_ he said, in the same matter-of-fact, self-explanatory fashion she'd spoken with earlier-

 _"It's all your fault," she had sighed, without so much as a greeting as she'd come in, immediately wriggling in underneath his arm and settling against him. "It is completely and utterly_ _your fault,_ this heat, _with your hair and your eyes and – **please** __**stop looking at me like that!"**_


End file.
